Mara climbed. She reached the point where Kyle had struggled, a huge gap of space, and as she let her body swing across it, her mind switched off completely. There were no thoughts or feelings, no hope that she would catch herself or fear that she might not; she swung across the space and caught herself, and her body rose higher, and she no longer cared about anything at all. She would have climbed forever to stay in that relief. Until she reached the top fork of the trunk, and straddled it, and then she looked down.

She was so far from the ground.

Their world in miniature. Trees covering the earth like moss, and the lake self-contained, blue as the summer sky. The creek wound out of sight, leisurely, lingering in oxbows and pools. No rush to the inevitable. The bear’s carcass on the gravel bar just a black mark covered in crows. Every now and then they stretched their tiny wings.

The tree swayed, sweeping from side to side with the wind, but it felt like she was the only thing still, and the earth swayed beneath her like waves at sea. The clearing, the shelter, the coals from the signal fires, seemed more like a diorama than the real thing. A museum exhibit made of twigs. How quaint that they lived their lives like that and thought that they mattered. In the distance, shimmering, she saw the lake by crew camp, which also didn’t matter, which was just as small and lost as they all were. She wanted out.

She pulled the first flare from her bra. It was an orange plastic tube about the size of a pen, but thicker, and she peeled off the paper wrapping. She had never fired a flare before, but it seemed simple enough. When she unscrewed the container, a little chain dropped out the bottom, and she understood that she was to point and pull it hard.

A boom like a gunshot. A blinding flash. Smoke pouring from her hands. The light rose high for a long time, red and weightless, shrinking into the pale sky.

The first shot was for Kyle. Come find him. Before we are all like him. Save him. Please somebody come to us and help.

The second shot was for the fawn. The stupid innocent fawn.

The third shot was for the rest of them. It echoed.

Save Ashley, thought Mara, who I don’t hate, who I never hated, who came here knowing what she had to do, who is broken and fucked up and ambitious and lets herself want in ways I have never wanted anything but her.

Save Bullfrog, who is doing all of this so that one person might look at him just once more.

Save me, because I came here to have choices for once, and now I deserve to make them. We all needed a way out. We all needed a way in.

“You motherfuckers!” she screamed. Louder than she ever had, until her voice cracked and her throat burned. “Come save us!”